


operation no control (and the headline, "my love's bulletproof")

by blasphemyincarnate



Series: deep breaths, everyone; your hearts are pounding [3]
Category: VALORANT (Video Game)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, how tag things, outsider pov, specifically one chapter but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26203456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blasphemyincarnate/pseuds/blasphemyincarnate
Summary: Five people left Jett’s office on Wednesday night. Sunday night, four returned.Five old friends Cypher interacted with on his journey, and one new one.-Or - I wrote fanfiction of my friend's fanfiction. Cypher's journey through the eyes of everyone else.
Relationships: Cypher & Nora, Cypher/Omen (VALORANT), Jett/Sage (VALORANT), Omen & Viper, cypher and like a lot of people actually
Series: deep breaths, everyone; your hearts are pounding [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1807408
Comments: 9
Kudos: 62





	1. the leader

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [wait for me, love. i'll find you.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24971641) by [JustAKilljoy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAKilljoy/pseuds/JustAKilljoy). 



> jett's chapter is kinda short but that makes up for the absolute monsters that viper and nora's are lol anyways i love her loads!!
> 
> big thanks to justakilljoy and [Fleet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fleetling) for betas and support and just like things in general,, i love them!! n fleet doesn't even know who any of these ppl are so like-
> 
> title taken from revolution radio by green day, previously known as _first, foremost, above all_

Five people left Jett’s office on Wednesday night. Sunday night, four returned.

Cypher was sitting at the seat in front of her desk, back towards the door. They were both expecting everyone back today - everyone, including Omen. Jett took a mental tally of the people walking in, took in what had happened, and bit back the urge to tell Cypher not to turn around.

“Agents,” she said icily instead, standing up with her hands planted on her desk. “Unless my maths skills have suddenly failed me, I count one less person than there should be.”

Cypher had already turned around, so Jett didn’t have to see his face fall. If she’d known, he wouldn’t have been here. He wouldn’t have had to realize this, especially not in front of the very people who had abandoned Omen.

The person in the lead froze where he was standing and swallowed. “Um,” he started, glancing nervously at his teammates. “Your math skills are fine, miss.”

At least he had a sense of humor.

Jett stormed around her desk and up in his face, casting a glance at Cypher as she went by. He had gone pale. Jett tried not to imagine being in his position, with Sage not returning, Sage being left behind, alone and probably hurt-

Jett failed miserably. She turned her attention to telling the agents off so she wouldn’t have to think about it. 

Telling people off, she could do. Ragging on them for a job gone wrong, she could do. It was supposed to be _simple_. She’d been relieved about this one, even thought five people might be overkill. She’d been so sure everything would be okay.

She trusted Omen to do what he always did. And he did, but his team didn’t. His team failed him. They were weak, coward; they weren’t good enough. They had failed him.

 _Jett_ failed him.

Once they were gone, and Cypher was too - and _fuck_ , he’d _cried_ , and so did she - Jett sat down at her desk heavily and put her head in her hands. If she closed her eyes and focused, she imagined she could still hear Cypher’s footsteps as he walked away, down the hall, to what could well be his death.

And his blood - his _and_ Omen’s - would be on her hands forever.

Jett slammed her fist onto the desk. “Fuck,” she mumbled to herself, eyeing the pile of mission forms distastefully. She shouldn’t have let Cypher go. But she couldn’t have asked him to stay either.

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ,” she muttered.

Brimstone could deal with the agents properly. He would understand. Brimstone had been a leader much longer than she had, after all. How many suicide missions had he sent agents on? How many names did he have carved into his brain, how many faces imprinted on his eyelids?

Jett closed her eyes (saw their faces), leaned back, and did her best not to think about bloody hands.

  
  



	2. the mole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> viper babe ily
> 
> someone teach her how to love ppl,,, n listen she and omen are BEST FRIENDS i make the rules and i said so
> 
> (also this chapter is not as long as i thought it was lmfao)

Viper didn’t receive notifications from the forum, because notifications could kill, and she didn’t make a habit of checking it either, because that could too. Omen had liked to joke that she had a sixth sense of knowing when to check it, since she always seemed to catch every new message.

Speaking of. Omen.

Jett had called two hours ago to ask if she might know of his location. Viper hadn’t even known he was missing - as embarrassing it was to admit, her blood had gone cold. Omen was a friend, one of the very few she had. What was the point of keeping a job with the traitors who killed her family if she couldn’t keep her new one safe?

Viper tapped her fingers against the table in mock restlessness. Fake tics were hard to keep up, but finger-tapping was obvious. No one would notice her speedy blinks, or the way she blew her breath out and sucked it in again.

“Sabine,” someone greeted cheerily. Viper subtly clicked away from the email she had been composing to her director and turned in her seat, smile prepared.

“Thomas,” she responded, eyeing her coworker up and down. Thomas was a kind man, always smiling, but dangerous in his own right. She’d thought about telling Sage about him, as a potential recruit, but had decided in the end he was too much of a coward.

Cowards. All of them.

Viper had been one once, too. But she knew better nowadays.

“What’s up,” Thomas said. He flopped down in his chair dramatically, clearly not expecting an actual answer, and waggled his fingers at her before turning towards his work.

Viper nodded in his general direction and turned back to her email. Omen likely wasn’t with them, but it didn’t hurt to slip in a subtle message about some chemicals she “might need”, conveniently used for new detainees. 

Viper glanced at the time. Jett had called her two hours ago, and said that Cypher would be landing soon. She pulled out her phone, WiFi off, and opened up a new incognito tab to check the forum. 

_Lucky as always_ , Omen would’ve said. Cypher’s message had been sent just a few minutes ago. She tapped out a quick response, picked up a pre-written and excused leave form, grabbed his chemicals, and left for the meetup point.

Viper would never say it to his face, but Cypher was looking more than a little worse for the wear. Tired, mostly. She wondered if he’d slept, then figured he likely hadn’t, and concluded that it wasn’t really her problem anyways. 

“You here for the invisible ink?” She asked, leaning against a tree. He hadn’t seen her yet - at the sound of her voice, he stumbled. Viper narrowed her eyes, then straightened up and off the tree.

“This… is not the meeting place,” Cypher said, straightening himself out. He sounded tired too. It really wasn’t Viper’s problem or place, but she was tempted to knock him out and contact someone else to go after Omen. Someone who could do it with a clear head.

“I got bored,” Viper said instead. She sighed and pulled the takeout bag out from behind her to hand to him. “Long time no see, Cypher.”

Cypher nodded as he took the bag, shoving it into his backpack with barely a second glance. Viper bit her tongue to keep from telling him to be more careful with it. He could face the consequences of his actions once in awhile.

Cypher didn’t leave immediately, which was almost surprising, if he hadn’t always been one to _care_ about people. Disgusting. Viper sometimes wished she could say the same. Instead, he asked, “How is work?”

Viper rolled her eyes and tugged at her cuffs. “Same shit as always. I hate my boss, I hate the government. Nothing new.”

Cypher nodded like he could relate, which - maybe he could. Viper had only heard rumors of what he’d done before becoming involved with VALORANT. For all she knew, it was very similar.

Maybe he’d worked retail. THat sounded about right.

“If I weren’t fighting for the resistance. I would’ve quit this job a long fucking time ago,” Viper added instead of asking if he had ever worked retail. “There are other places a graduate chem studnet can find a job, I’d like to think.”

Cypher smiled at that, and Viper would deny to her dying day the wave of relief that washed over her. It was nice to see him smile. It was nice to be the one to make him smile.

“Not many where you can find luminol, though,” Cypher said.

Viper shrugged, letting the relief soften her edges and take the bite out of her words. “Who knows,” she said. Then, glancing down at her watch, “You should get going, Cypher. If you don’t bring Omen back alive-”

Viper cast a glare in his direction. She doubted Cypher actually needed the reminder, but it made her feel better. More useful.

“I’ll kill you,” she finished. Viper tugged at her cuffs and tried not to think about the potential of Omen not coming back. He was a friend, before anyone else had been. Dangerously, Viper had gotten attached.

There were a lot of dangerous things that had recently become true.

Viper wasn’t quite sure when she’d started _caring_ about people again. Going the extra mile to see if Omen was with them, worrying after Cypher’s well-being — hell, the other day, she’d offered to take over in the medbay for Sage for a bit.

After the accident, she’d really thought she would never know how to care for someone again. But here she was.

_Here I am._

Cypher laughed, shortly, and shook his head. “Don’t worry,” he said quietly. “If I can’t bring Omen back, I won’t be able to live with myself.”

Viper was half-tempted to take back her words, to tell him that if Omen didn’t survive this, he had to. To tell him she couldn’t lose him, too. Instead, she nodded approvingly and said, “See you someday, Cypher.”

“Thanks for the ink,” Cypher said, and then he walked away.

Viper watched him go, and then quietly checked her email to see if the boss had responded. Request approved. Omen wasn’t with them.

Viper let herself breathe out a quiet sigh of relief.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please lmk if you spot any typos!! bc in the process of copying and pasting this over i've found three yikes
> 
> edit: four. I've found four.


	3. the medic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's everyone's favorite support,,, sage,,, who is maybe needing a little support atm
> 
> this one is also kind of short, some of these chapters are rlly short -

Sage very nearly took the door to Jett’s office off its hinges when she stormed in, half a minute after responding to Cypher’s forum message. “Jett,” she started through clenched teeth. “Honey, love of my life, where the  _ fuck  _ is Cypher right now?”

Jett was staring down at some papers on her desk, but anyone who knew her — and Sage  _ did  _ know her, just like she already knew where Cypher was, what he had gone to do, and why Jett let him do it  — knew she wasn’t actually reading the paper at all. “Washington, D.C., hopefully.”

Sage walked around the desk and sat down on it, putting one hand on Jett’s shoulder. “And why, pray tell, is he in Washington, D.C.?”

Jett stubbornly refused to look up at her. “What was I fucking supposed to do?” She muttered, pushing the papers she was not-staring at away from her angrily. “Not let him go? Leave Omen to the goddamn wolves? You know as well as I do that if I’d said no, he’d have snuck off and done it himself anyways.”

Sage did know. Cypher was a genius tactician and almost as good a fighter, but in the end, he was just an idiot in love with another idiot (albeit Omen had some more brain cells than Cypher tended to when they were around each other).

“You guys could’ve told me,” Sage said, frustration leaking into her tone. SHe closed her eyes against the tell-tale sign of tears pricking at them. “I could’ve given him a medkit. With proper bandages and antiseptics. A medical run-down. I could’ve  _ sent someone with him. _ ”

Jett, as a unit leader, was limited in what she could do, how many people she could spare for a mission. Sage had no such restrictions - she’d been pleasantly surprised, upon first joining VALORANT, that as head medic, what she said usually went.

Jett shook her head guiltily and put her hand on Sage’s knee. “Sorry,” she said, softly. “I should’ve.”

Sage let a breath out shakily and shook her head. “Yeah,” she mumbled, looking down at Jett. “You should’ve.”

Jett picked up her hand and gently kissed the back of it. “I wasn’t really thinking,” she said, not letting go of Sage’s hand. “I was just- fuck, Sage, I was looking him, and you don’t know what he looked like. Like someone had put his fucking heart through a meat shredder. Which, let’s be honest, could very well be happening.”

Sage personally thought the FBI would have more class than to put dead bodies in meat shredders, but maybe not.

“Sage,” Jett said, like a breath all punched-out, “This is so selfish of me, and you deserve better - Cypher does, Omen does - but I just kept looking at him and thinking… fuck, I couldn’t stop thinking like,  _ what if it was you?  _ If Cypher was the leader and you went MIA. I don’t think I’d ever forgive him if he didn’t let me go.”

Sage closed her eyes again. This was the crux of it. Not only did Jett love Cypher and Omen as some of her closest friends, she loved  _ Sage _ . First, foremost, above all.

Their resistance grew more everyday. It could become unstoppable, should its members learn to stop throwing the world away for one another.

“I understand,” Sage said, because she did, even if she didn’t like it. “Did you see-”

“-the forum message?” Jett finished, already pulling out her phone to tap at it. “Yeah. It’s why you came in, isn’t it.”

“Yes,” Sage responded, leaning over her shoulder to read it again, like something might’ve changed since she had last seen it approximately six minutes ago. She found herself obsessing over the message, scanning each line for some sort of a hidden signal. It wasn’t coded  — which was worrying in and of itself, considering how rarely Cypher sent an uncoded message  — but she searched as if it might be.

_ Shot, lower left abdomen. Will be digging bullet out in a moment. Whiskey + cauterization? _

Sage noticed Jett worrying at her lip and hopped off the table to stand behind her, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. She rested her chin on top of Jett’s head and said, “He’ll be fine. They’ll both be fine.”

If the reassurance was just as much for herself as it was for Jett, no one called her out on it.

“Good,” Jett said, still staring at the message. She was definitely doing the same thing Sage was doing - not that either of them would admit it. “They better fucking be, or I’ll storm in there and kill both of them myself. Save the FBI some bloody fucking hands.”

“And I’ll be right there behind you,” Sage said, fondly. Jett swiped up on the web browser and set her phone aside, leaning back to look up at Sage.

“Hey,” she said. “I love you.”

Sage smiled weakly at her and leaned down to press her lips against hers softly. “Love you too,” she said, after pulling back.

Some secret, selfish part of her was very glad Omen was the missing one, and Cypher the one searching. It could’ve been Jett out there. It could’ve been  _ Sage  _ out there.

It was selfish. But- Sage was selfish. 

  
  



	4. the outsider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> reyna!! very kickass. also i was Somewhat sleep-deprived when i wrote this so there are some uh. questionable lines and commentary but [fensandmarshes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fensandmarshes) insisted it was funny and i should leave it in and you know what i agree so

Reyna didn’t really consider herself to be a part of VALORANT, but she was the only one who shared that sentiment. Anyone else would tell you she was. She worked almost exclusively with them, most of her social circle - or what passed for a social circle nowadays - was in VALORANT, and she was constantly doing stupid little favors like this for them.

“Get out of the bushes, Cypher,” Reyna called, hiding a grin. She flicked at the safety on her gun and raised an eyebrow as Cypher crawled out of the bushes like a little worm. 

“Reyna,” Cypher greeted cautiously. He brushed some leaves and twigs off himself, doing an excellent job of looking dignified for someone who had just crawled out of the bunch of bushes he was using as a hiding spot from the FBI. “Why are you here?”

Reyna sniffed and pulled the magazine out of her gun. “I believe you should thank me first,” she said, eyeing him disdainfully. “I got rid of all those pesky agents.”

“Thank you,” Cypher muttered, half-reluctantly. He stepped out of the bushes properly and raised an eyebrow at the bodies all around. “Ah, I see.”

“Yes,” Reyna said, tossing the empty magazine in the air. “As I said, I got rid of those little pests. Very easy. They were very weak.”

“Why were you here in the first place?” Cypher asked curiously, walking towards one of the cars. He appraised it as if he were a car appraisal man and the car was one he was trying to appraise. “Did someone send you?”

Reyna caught the magazine and tossed it into her pocket. “Jett said you are a dumbass,” she said, delicately picking her way through the bodies to stand by Cypher. She turned to face him and raised an eyebrow at his stubborn refusal to look at her. “I heard you got shot.”

“I... “ Cypher looked as if he might try to deny it for a moment, which would be very stupid, since Reyna could  _ see  _ where the old blood from his wound had stained his shirt. “Yes. I did get shot.”

Cypher moved to get into the car, and Reyna didn’t stop him only because she thought he couldn’t possibly be that stupid. “Please send my regards to Jett. I’ll take this car and get moving now.”

Reyna blinked once, then again. Apparently he could be that stupid.

She held up a hand and said, “You are not looking through the FBI’s bodies? I’m sure they have many valuable items on them.”

Cypher clambered out of the car immediately. “Of course.”

Reyna was a little less than impressed, watching him move around the bodies and poke through their jackets. She crossed her arms and stared down at him appraisingly. “How are you the head of intel? What did Jett see in you?”

“My amazing looks and charm, of course,” Cypher responded smoothly, sounding for all the world like he’d include an eyebrow waggle had he actually been looking at her.

Reyna sighed wistfully and resisted the urge to pat him on the head. He was crouched right there, and her hand was so close, and it would be the perfect amount of condescending to finish off her performance…

“Oh, to be a gay dumbass,” she said instead. “I could never.”

Reyna was a  _ distinguished _ gay, thank you very much.

Cypher almost dropped the new badge he was holding. “Thank you, Reyna,” he said tightly. “Are you sure you’re not needed elsewhere?” 

Reyna rolled her eyes — had she done that already? how many times? God, she needed new friends — and peeked at the phone in her pocket. New message, from Phoenix. “As a matter of fact, I am.” She tossed the gun she was holding and a fresh magazine to Cypher before tugging at her boots and turning around. “I’ll see you around, Cypher. And Omen, too.”

Cypher met her gaze evenly, even if his hands shook ever so slightly. He raised his hand in a mock salute and turned back towards the bodies.

Reyna strode away, checking the message as she did so. Phoenix had requested her  _ and  _ Raze to show up - which would be interesting. The Brazilian was a fun girl, and Reyna got along well with her, but their assignments together usually turned out rather… bloody. Reyna hated leaving a mess behind.

She glanced back in Cypher’s direction only once. He was nothing more than a silhouette sitting in the driver’s seat of the car he had been looking at, and his head was bowed.

  
  



	5. the partner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OMEN COMES HOME :DDDD

The curtains were drawn against the afternoon sun, dimming the room enough that Omen wouldn’t flinch whenever he turned towards the window. Cypher had thought he hated the sight of Omen curled into that cell — and he did hate it, just as he hated the way he knew it would haunt his nightmares - but he might’ve hated the flinch just a bit more.

Cypher was lying on the couch, half-dozing, with Omen sprawled on top of him like a cat. They laid chest-to-chest, legs tangled, Omen’s face tucked into the crook of Cypher’s neck.

A few days in a cell had left its mark, but Cypher was just glad it didn’t do worse. He wrapped his arms around Omen’s still-tiny waist and repeatedly thanked whatever deity was out there that he was still allowed this.

“Stop thinking so loudly,” Omen mumbled into Cypher’s neck. Cypher laughed quietly and held him tighter. “How am I supposed to nap with you thinking so many thoughts?” 

“Tune me out,” Cypher said, turning his head to rest his cheek on Omen’s hair. “And go to sleep. Jett and Sage will be here in two hours.”

“And Phoenix,” Omen volunteered helpfully. “And Sova. Viper. Killjoy. Raze. Not sure how they expect to fit so many people in here.”

Cypher glanced around the apartment. Omen was right - it was sort of small. But it was _theirs_. Cypher’s plants (Melville, Hemingway, and Verne, because he was very funny) sat on the kitchen windowsill, just visible over the half-wall separating the two rooms. Omen had been bedridden a few months ago for a nasty leg wound, and the blanket he knit during that time was bundled at the end of the couch.

One of Sage’s paintings hung on the wall, and their cooking knives were a gift from Jett. There weren’t any photos on the walls, but the night they moved in, Omen wrote their initials in silver Sharpie just over the top of the door frame. There were little baubles and trinkets hanging out all over the apartment, a blend of Cypher and Omen’s decorational taste (and sometimes Jett. Jett usually brought things over and then forgot about them, leaving them to end up a permanent part of the decor.)

The home was very much theirs. Cypher’s heart swelled at just the thought.

“They’ll throw out that coatrack of yours to make room,” Cypher said instead of what he was thinking. The coatrack was a very ugly brass structure that sat like a monstrous king in the corner of the living room. It looked more like someone had thrown a bunch of metal rods on the ground and sprayed it down with a blowtorch than a coatrack. Omen had insisted upon it. Cypher would go to hell and back to get rid of it.

Omen pushed himself up slightly, hands splayed on Cypher’s chest. He tried and failed to hide a wince, but shook his head in Cypher’s direction when he moved to sit up. He shifted and then said, very seriously, “They would never.” 

Cypher rolled his eyes and pulled Omen back down, choosing not to dignify that with a response. Omen hissed lightly through his teeth, and Cypher looked down towards him worriedly.

Omen exhaled softly and noticed Cypher looking at him. “I’m fine,” he said. “It just tugged for a moment.”

Cypher’s forehead creased and he reached for Omen’s hand, running his thumb over the callouses on instinct. Omen squeezed back as he sat up again, and pulled their linked hands under his shirt.

Cypher raised an eyebrow, lips quirking upwards slightly. Omen shook his head and laughed. “Maybe some other time,” he said, patting Cypher’s hair condescendingly. Instead, he tugged Cypher’s hand up towards his heart.

It beat steadily, a soothing, tactile lullaby.

“See?” Omen said, softly. “I’m fine.”

Cypher frowned and chose to stay quiet about the bandages his fingers had dragged over. “I know,” he said, shifting to push himself up on the arm of the couch. “But I worry.”

“Duly noted,” Omen said drily, raising an eyebrow. “But here’s your friendly reminder that you can rest your anxious heart for a moment.”

Cypher laughed at that, pressing his palm flat against Omen’s heartbeat. Omen sucked in a quiet breath. “I will do that,” Cypher said. “Once you come kiss me.”

Omen scowled at him. “If you laugh again, I’m kicking you off the couch.”

“Duly noted,” Cypher echoed with a smile on his lips. He could practically feel the laugh bubbling up already. It was an instinctive reaction; the anxiety was fading, Omen’s heart was study, and what better way to show joy than laughter?

Omen leaned down to press his lips against Cypher’s softly, hands reaching up to wrap around his upper torso. Cypher settled his arms around Omen’s waist again, pulling him closer.

There was a homemade knit blanket at the foot of the couch, plants on the windowsill, and Omen was in Cypher’s arms, home where they all belonged.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alternatively:
>
>> Cypher's lips began to curve, and Omen pulled away with a scowl. "I swear to God," he said. "You are about to laugh."  
> "No, I'm not," Cypher argued, though he made zero attempts to hide his bright grin.  
> Omen slipped down between Cypher's body and the couch cushions and, very tenderly and gently, shoved Cypher onto the floor.  
> 
> 
> this was originally gonna be the +1 but then i uh. i went wild with nora's section. so this is no longer the +1. 


	6. the cabbie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> god i love nora so much

Nora had honestly been living a rather normal life up until she picked up that strange man at three in the morning. Which sounded like the beginning of a horror story her friends liked to tell, but Nora  _ swore  _ she had some semblance of common sense. 

He had been nice to her. Polite, if a little weird, and holding his stomach suspiciously. Nora tried not to stare, but if the holding was suspicious, the red-brown staining his shirt was downright incriminating.

Furthermore, he asked her to go to the car rental. Nora blinked at him in her rearview mirror a few times, then at the clock on her car, then back at him. No response. “Okay,” she said. “I hope you find this journey pleasant. 

It was three AM. The car rental was definitely closed.

Nora made the executive decision not to tell him that, because that was more words than she had in her to summon at the moment, and he looked like he wouldn’t yell when they got there.

She was right. When they arrived at the very obviously closed car rental, the man simply stared out the window at it with a defeated expression for a very long time. Eventually, Nora cleared her throat and said, “...your stop, sir.”

The man gathered his things and cleared his own throat awkwardly. “Thank you,” he said. And then he left the car and began walking towards the car rental with the determination of a man walking a pirate’s plank.

As in, he attempted to be dignified, and failed miserably.

Nora quietly pulled away from the car rental, fingers tapping to the beat of the light music in the car. She thought no more of the strange man in the car, save when she stopped to tell her friend about it at lunch the next day.

And then the FBI showed up at her door.

“Nora Filali?” The woman asked. Her blue jacket was emblazoned with a yellow  _ FBI  _ and her foundation didn’t match her skin tone. It was a shade too light - Nora vaguely thought the words Eurocentric beauty standards and then immediately lost her train of thought. The woman looked up from her phone with an almost bored expression, looking as if she would raise an eyebrow were it not impolite. Her partner coughed into his fist and took a sip of his overpriced coffee. 

Nora blinked once, twice. She yawned, mumbled, “Excuse me,” and shut her door right in the pair’s face. 

She had had another late shift last night. It was 9:30 AM. Far too early to deal with this.

Nora took a deep breath and slapped herself gently on the face, then opened the door again. “Hi,” she said, yawning. “Yes. I’m Nora.”

The woman had a vaguely amused expression on her face, or maybe an anguished one. It was hard to tell. “Ms. Filali,” she greeted, tapping at something else on her phone. “My partner and I just have a few questions for you. About a passenger you may have carried three days ago?”

Nora had no real concept of time anymore, and paused to think about how long ago three days was. “Yes.” she said, not really paying attention to what she was saying. “Go ahead. ASk away.”

The woman nodded sharply and gestured to her partner. He cleared his throat and said, “It was around 2:45 AM when you may have picked up this client. We believe the destination was the car rental?”

Nora blinked a few more times, and then a lightbulb flickered on in her head. The strange man, with the probably bloodied coat and failed attempt at dignity. “I think I remember that,” she said slowly, the sudden moment of realization sharpening her senses and waking her up. She suddenly wasn’t sure how much she wanted to tell these people - logically, they were her country’s law enforcers, and she should work with them, but something… didn’t seem right. And Nora knew better than to ignore her instincts.

The man smiled brightly, which did little to soothe Nora’s anxiety. “Yes,” he said. “What details did you notice about this man?”

Nora thought about it for a moment. She could tell them about his white coat, or his injury, or how tired he’d seemed. She could tell them he was Middle Eastern, that his voice, despite being somewhat softened by exhaustion, was sharp. She could tell them she’d gotten multiple good looks at his face, and could probably identify him in a lineup. She could tell thm about the scar or tattoo or something that poked out from under his collar. That he was tall. That he had seemed kind. That he had thrown a weak smile her way when he exited the car.

“Sorry, I don’t really remember anything,” Nora apologized. “It was three AM. I was really tired.”

The man’s smile disappeared for a moment, but it was back just as fast. The woman darted an inscrutable look in his direction. “Thanks for your time,” he said, ignoring her probing eyes. “Sorry to have bothered you.”

“No worries,” Nora said, watching them turn to leave. “Good luck with your search.”

Nora made coffee and watched it brew, the  _ drip-drip-drip  _ of the machine timed with the swirls of her anxious thoughts. What if the man had been a serial killer, or terrorist, or worse? What if she’d condemned people to death?

Nora took a sip of the fresh coffee and a deep breath. Her instincts hadn’t failed her yet. Mama had always said she seemed to be almost prophetic in the way she called things. 

Two weeks later, prophecy came to bite her in the ass.

“Oh my god,” Nora said, watching the taller of the pair that had hailed her help his partner into the car. They both turned to look at her, eyes narrowed and wary. “It’s you.” She spun around in her seat, one arm across the back of the passenger seat. “The FBI showed up at my door because of you.”

The tall man — Middle Eastern, voice sharp, a scar or tattoo or something poking out from under his collar — paused in his movements and took a good look at her. His eyes widened in recognition a moment later. “And you didn’t tell me the car rental was closed,” he responded accusingly. Then, almost slightly nervous, he took a step off the car and asked, “...the FBI visited you?”

“Yeah,” Nora responded. The man’s partner snorted and muttered something under his breath, though his eyes were fond when he looked at him. “Don’t worry — I didn’t tell them anything. I didn’t have anything to say.”

The man blew out a breath and hesitantly sat down inside the car, wrapping one arm around his partner. “There was plenty for you to say.”

“Maybe,” Nora agreed. “Not to some bureaucratic assholes who woke me up before noon though. Where to?”

The man’s partner gave her directions to a cute little cafe on the other side of town that she used to frequent. The man stared at her and said, “Thanks,” faintly.

The ride progressed in silence for a few minutes, until Nora glanced at them in her rearview mirror and broke the hesitant peace. “My name’s Nora, by the way,” she commented, slowly turning onto the street of the cafe. “In case you wanted to know.”

The man’s eyes darted towards her and he smiled faintly. “Aamir,” he offered. “This is Rietveld.” Rietveld nodded in her direction seriously, curled up against Aamir’s side. 

“Nice to meet you,” Nora said. “So uh, wanna tell me why the FBI was at my door?”

Rietveld snorted, visibly holding back laughter. Aamir scowled fondly at him and then looked towards Nora sheepishly. “Not really?”

Nora shrugged and settled the car at the curb, opting to idle there instead of parking. “Right. Well, if you’re a serial killer, please remember I was nice to you this one time. Here’s your stop, by the way. Fare’s thirty six dollars and seventeen cents.”

“That has got to be a scam,” Rietveld said, staring at her with slightly raised eyebrows. He pulled himself off Aamir’s side and nodded at him. “I’m going to head in first and see Sabine.”

“And leave me to foot the bill, as always,” Aamir muttered under his breath. He ghosted his hand over Rietveld’s cheek and nodded back at him. “Stay safe.”

Nora watched the interaction with a small smile on her face. She’d always been fascinated by people and their interactions with the people around them, especially in public spaces where it was less common. It was a peek into people’s private lives, the ever-new realization that everyone was complex and full of love for each other.

“You know I will,” Rietveld responded, smiling back at Aamir. He shut the car door behind him and began limping in the direction of the cafe. Aamir watched him for a moment and then pulled a small wallet out of his breast pocket, pulling out one bill at a time.

Nora watched him fiddle with the wallet and then blurted, “You really can’t tell me?”

Aamir glanced up at her, one eyebrow raised. “About the FBI? I shouldn’t.”

Nora turned around to face him, arm slung across the back of her seat in a friendly manner, and grinned. “Shouldn’t doesn’t mean you’re not gonna.”

Aamir blinked at her, then smiled wryly and handed her the bills. “They stole something from from me,” he said vaguely, eyes drifting out towards the cafe. Nora followed his line of sight on instinct, watching Rietveld hug a tall woman with short black hair in the window. “So I stole it back. They weren’t very happy about that.”

Nora pouted teasingly and turned back around. “Faire enough,” she said. She tugged a Post-it out of her bag and scrawled her number on it, offering it towards him. She could use more friends in this city. “Hit me up sometime, tell me more about your probably illegal adventures. Just as vaguely, I’m sure.”

Aamir looked at her with a hard-to-decipher expression and then smiled the same wry smile. “Alright,” he said, folding the post-it and tucking it next to his wallet. “See you around, Nora.”

“See you around,” Nora echoed, watching him exit the car and join Rietveld. He leaned down for a kiss, and the woman made an exaggerated head motion. Likely part of an eyeroll, but Nora saw her smiling when her face turned towards the window.

A week passed, and then there was another knock at her door. Nora looked up from her computer suspiciously, half-wondering if it was the pair back to interrogate her some more. She eventually stood up and opened it at the second knock, to be greeted by a Chinese woman with black Doc Martens and a kind smile.

“Hi,” she said, sticking a hand out. “You must be Nora. My name is Sage. I’m not a salesman, promise — may I come in?”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some notes:  
> \- when i wrote this like a month ago omen's name was elijah. while editing i decided i didn't like that but then i couldn't pick out another name? so i named him after kazoo brekker bc that seems like an omen thing to do. also im now crying over kazoo brekker so there's that too  
> \- yes im heavily implying nora gets recruited into valorant :))  
> \- i had more to say but i don't remember any of it
> 
> SO stay safe everyone!! i love you all!! hope you enjoyed the fic, comments and kudos make the world go round <33 lmk if you spot any typos or fills that haven't been replaced!
> 
> [my tumblr](https://insert-cleverurl.tumblr.com)


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